


Within The Cold Dreadfort Walls

by Kyatto



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Light BDSM, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Ramsay is his own warning, S&M, Sadism, Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 00:10:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12331614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyatto/pseuds/Kyatto
Summary: Ramsay Bolton has fun with his pets at the Dreadfort - Myranda and Reek - and fantasizes about who else he could have owned and wants to take for himself in the future. Despite being a Bolton Ramsay had his own way of doing things.





	Within The Cold Dreadfort Walls

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quicky to get in the headspace to write these characters! Let me know what you think!
> 
> There's several smut scenes and a couple are Dubcon. Smut scenes are mildly explicit but the explicitness is brief. You've been warned.

There’s something comforting about it always being freezing, save for the soft heat cast by various fireplaces in stonewalled rooms of the Dreadfort. When you step just an inch away from the warm glow your skin is met with the cool frosty bite of winter. Something the walls do well in keeping out but also trapping within. Normally one doesn’t notice the drastic changes in temperature when covered in the right amount of fur, leather, and armor but on a stark bare body, it’s impossible not to. Few spend long of their own volition unclothed in the Dreadfort, but Ramsay Bolton revels in it. He loves the blast from steaming to frigid whether it’s stepping out of a hot bath or whipping himself away from a body he’d seared into. The heat reminds him he’s human but the cold reminds him he’s alive. 

But for some others, this is just another means of torture. Something Ramsay knows all too well. 

Winter is coming, and his pet Reek - formerly Theon Greyjoy of the Ironborne - is all too familiar with not only those words, the motto of the house he was formerly a ward of, but of the reality of those words. Barely clothed he was always cold. Like perpetually held underwater at the mercy of the drowned god. That was when Ramsay was feeling generous and charitable. When those flights of fancy went he thought nothing of stowing Reek stark nude in an empty dungeon cell in the middle of the night or with the dogs in the kennel. Sometimes chained up unable to move and left alone in a torture room left drafty on purpose as per the Bolton way. So he was forced to feel every bite of cold as the snowy icy winds blew through. 

Myranda, the kennel master’s daughter, relished in Reek’s torment. She delighted in watching and helping as Ramsay devised and carried out new methods of breaking him down piece by piece. He’d proven himself a loyal pet long ago but she always loved the thrill of the chase at Ramsay’s side and to partake in his manipulations of the mind, body, and spirit. She knew her place was that above Reek, most certainly. Not Ramsay’s pet, but not quite his Lady - no not yet. She was his pet in a different way. A loyal subservient to her master of manipulation and torture Ramsay Bolton. Something she took much pride and joy in. 

A favorite method of tormenting Reek Myranda was fond of was when Ramsay would summon Reek to his chambers and secure him to a chair where he couldn’t look away. Ramsay would shed his clothes, cool the fire where it was almost out completely, and savagely shred Myranda out of hers. He bent her over in front of Reek for her to face him, gripping her by her hip and hair. She braced herself with her claws digging into Reek’s lap, her eyes deviously piercing into his knowing he wouldn’t break contact. Then feel as Ramsay brutally thrust into her, hard enough to make her pale perky breasts bounce and sway, her buttocks jiggle and turn red as he repeatedly slapped it with a bare hand. With the hand gripping her hair, Ramsay angled Myranda’s head in the direction of Reek’s crotch. Taunting that if he still had his cock how close it would be to her mouth in that moment. 

The frigid air had her nipples perfectly erect and goosebumps flush her skin. Ramsay’s breath and her own could be seen making steam clouds as he panted while pounding into her and she shrieked in delight. As he was getting close he abruptly tossed her aside so he could aim himself to hit his mark - Reek’s chest - with his climax. For the finishing touch he dragged Myranda up by her hair and she instinctively met Reek’s eyes as she licked every last drop off then turned to Ramsay and grinned as she swallowed. This always pleased him while leaving Reek looking lost and dumbstruck. Ramsay praised her as he pulled her back flush against his chest and he lowered her over Reek again to watch as he rewarded her by bringing her to orgasm with his fingers, letting her juices drip onto his face. It made Reek burn and lock up as they always knew it would. It was hard to feel and stimulate one’s own arousal when their cock had been taken. The burn was the most he would feel in the bitter cold. 

When news came of Robb Stark’s death Ramsay wished he could have been there and taken the body for himself. To have bound Reek in place and fucked the corpse of his former best friend and brother figure. To use it in ways he imagined Reek would’ve liked the Stark lord to have used him. Of the Bolton house, truly Ramsay was the more creative when it came to celebrating victories. To him attaching the head of the man’s direwolf to his body and parading it around was child’s play. Sometimes in the middle of the night and Myranda retired, Ramsay summoned Reek alone to his chambers. He would push the furs off the bed and have Reek lay beside him. With a vice-like grip on his hair, Ramsay would guide his cock to his mouth and make him worship it with his mouth and tongue. He was far too well trained to ever try biting.

The whole time he mocked Reek and the Theon still buried deep within about how he must wish he was doing this to his lord Robb instead. But no, the only lord in the North whose cock Reek was going to worship would belong to that of Bolton. Even when still just another Bastard Snow like the Stark bastard Ramsay knew took the black to defend the Wall, Ramsay felt true blood ties to his house and family name. A name whose traditions he carried out passionately and meticulously. Down to the mind games. Including apologizing for not being Robb as he nearly choked Reek with his orgasm then threw him off the bed. 

Yet regardless Reek was obedient and loyal. Even when his sister Yara came with fellow Ironborne to rescue him he remained hiding in the dog kennels insisting his name was that in which Ramsay had given him. That Theon was dead. Poor Yara had to leave empty-handed and with much of her crew dead as Ramsay cut through many of them when they invaded. And now that he was soon to be wed to Sansa Stark, he knew Myranda’s jealousy was also out of loyalty. For even after he went through with the political power scheme she would never marry. She would still be his as much as he made time for her. She was as loyal as any hound only satiated with his use of her body instead of food. No one could argue he wasn’t in control. 

With a window open and cold air blowing in he gripped Myranda’s svelte pale nude frame and had her face the outdoors in view of the cavalry carrying his soon-to-be bride. He reminded her quietly, voice as smooth as yup with a bite of cinnamon, that she would not be the only woman in his bed much longer. He gripped both her wrists and pinned them behind her with on hand while with the other he squeezed her firm breast nearly hard enough to bruise. The sounds she made were both shrieks of pain and cries of ecstasy.As the cold air blasted against them he braced her against the window ledge and took her from behind. His hand left her breast to tilt her head so he could capture her lips in a piercing kiss, teeth and tongues clashing. 

When their mouths parted he continued to pump into her and held her head to view the outside while reminding her she was his and always will be. She shuddered and moaned as she felt him plunge as deep as he could in her, cock pulsing with his orgasm. The wetness that dripped out of her and down her legs stung slightly as the freezing cold air blew over it as he pulled out. A moment later he dragged her over to the bed and tossed her atop a bed of furs. He stood at the foot of the bed and instructed she spread her legs for him and finish herself off as he watched. Myranda happily obliged, grinning as she worked herself with her fingers. The glistening juices on them a mix of his and hers. She breathed his name as if he were her god as she came, wetness gushing onto the bed of furs. His grin of satisfaction means she did well, especially when he had them both dress and instructed Reek to clean the furs with his tongue first before doing the proper laundry. 

“Do you love me, Reek?” Ramsay asked as he sponged off his pet in a bath he drew for him as a reward for his loyalty and not fleeing with his sister. 

Without hesitation Reek replied, “Yes, of course, my Lord.”

Ramsay’s sinisterly grinned in satisfaction and leaned over to capture his pet’s lip’s in a possessive kiss. He knew Myranda loved him - blindly and unconditionally. His first real pet and favorite toy. He didn’t have to break her to make her loyal. So hearing this was like music to his ears. He was a true Bolton and his pets knew just how sharp his knife was. Aside from his soon-to-be political bride, he had one more pet in mind he wanted to capture, break down, and complete his collection with who would be his finest masterwork yet. One he knew would be as resilient to and relish the cold as much as he. 

Jon Snow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please tell me if you'd like more! I enjoy writing Ramsay's character.


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